


Let Your Heart Be Light

by maydei



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Samifer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/pseuds/maydei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's laying underneath the tree again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Your Heart Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something in time for those who celebrate Christmas. Happy Holidays! Apologies for any typos, I'll try to fix the most glaring ones.

He's laying underneath the tree again.

He'll say it's because _he's the best gift Sam could ever receive_ with a wink and a smirk. The presents will be spread out around him, toppled over, and there'll be pine needles stuck to his cheeks, but he won't care. Once Sam wanders off, he'll go back to just laying there silently, and that's how Sam will know that it's so much more than anything Lucifer says. That's how he'll know that it might just be better to leave Lucifer be.

He'll stay there for hours at a time, not bothering to come out, and Sam won't ask him to. Instead, Sam will curl up on the couch with a book, sitting on the other side of the room, and will listen to the turning of pages, the crackle of the flames, and the soft sounds of Lucifer breathing.

Sam will never ask why because he thinks he might just know.

The gifts mean nothing to Lucifer, who hardly sees the point of such things. They're trinkets—everything is just a trinket to the man with magic and Grace under his borrowed skin. What means more to Lucifer isn't the paper and the bows, but the sensation. He lays underneath the Christmas tree, not out of some jaunty, sarcastic meaning, but because he is taking it all in.

His even breaths taste of pine. If Sam could see his eyes, he would see the light reflected in them, a thousand variants of colors to the senses of an archangel, fractures through orbs of glass and metal and specks of glitter. Christmas is more than a holiday that Lucifer lost his right to celebrate, but remains a mess of sensation and beauty that he never would have thought capable of humans—until Sam showed him otherwise.

So he'll lay there; might even fall asleep there, just as Sam will fall asleep on the couch. Lucifer just wants to savor the mess while he still can, before his Grace fades enough that he'll no longer see the world as an angel.

Sam will never ask, but Sam already knows.

When Lucifer will wake up, dazed and confused in the middle of the night, it will have been the first time he's slept. Sam will be under the tree with him, altogether much too big to fit comfortably, but fast asleep with his cheek on Lucifer's chest, his quiet snoring the gap between them and a silent night.

Lucifer will know, then, that the end is coming for him. Maybe not now, or even soon, but the day will most certainly come when he will no longer be what he was—an archangel; fearsome, wrathful, full to bursting of things human minds could never understand.

Once, he might have been angry. Once, he might have destroyed the world out of spite.

Instead, he'll look up through the tree and its falling needles, through the thousand colors that even now are starting to fade, see a myriad of patterns in the pine, all the way up to the top, where a ceramic angel perches protectively over its subjects below. He'll fall back asleep, wrapped around Sam. He'll think nothing on the impending doom of the morrow, when Dean and Castiel visit to share the day, a pair of tired tin soldiers playing house with two fallen kings.

For one night, Lucifer will be careless and at peace. For one night, he will be as close to human as he can be. He will no longer be timelessly ancient, but immeasurably young. He will be soft and tired and very much in love with the man who was always meant to be his.

He will wake up on Christmas morning to the doorbell ringing, having overslept, and his arm will feel like lead from where Sam slept on it. Sam will cuss and curse and grumble as he extracts himself from beneath the tree to let in his brother and his (other) pet angel. He will be the victim of uncomprehending stares from his own younger brother, Castiel, who will question anything and everything with surprisingly little tact for an angel that was once a general.

Lucifer will grouse. He'll be annoyed. He'll snark and snipe and poke fun at everyone, and more than once, Sam will have to break up a fight.

Not once that whole morning will he think of Michael or his Father.

And Lucifer—

—he might even find himself the slightest bit happy.

 

 

 


End file.
